Was reshuffle the beginning of the end for Cameron?

Much has changed for David Cameron over the course of his seven years in charge of the Conservative Party – but there are two aspects of his leadership that have remained pretty much constant throughout that period.

The first is that he has tried to avoid reshuffles as far as possible. The second is that in his efforts to detoxify the Tory brand he has, by and large, continued to lead the party from the political centre.

Well, it had to end sometime I guess. Two and a half years after taking up residence in Downing Street, he finally summoned the nerve to move some of his more middle-ranking Cabinet members around the political chessboard.

And in so doing, he tilted the balance of power within his government decisively rightwards – and away from that fabled centre ground he has spent so long trying to cultivate.

On the face of it, this looks like pretty poor judgement on the Prime Minister’s part. To win an outright majority at the next election, his party will have to win approximately 2m more votes than it won in May 2010.

Yet history shows that every time the Conservative Party has lurched to the right in recent years – most notably under William Hague in 1999 and Iain Duncan Smith in 2003 - its support has gone down, not up.

Mr Cameron's entire political success, such as it is, has been built on persuading people that he is not like those Tory leaders of old and that his style of politics, like Tony Blair's, is about reaching out to those who are not his natural supporters.

On no issue is the change in Mr Cameron clearer than that of the environment. The man who once rode a bicycle to work to show his party’s new-found commitment to the green cause has now appointed a virtual climate change denier as environment secretary.

Sure, the changes announced on Tuesday may well bring about some superficial advances in terms of both service delivery and presentation.

On the latter score in particular, new health secretary Jeremy Hunt will surely be an improvement on the hapless Andrew Lansley who, in the words of one commentator, “could not sell gin to an alcoholic.”

But these are trifling gains when set against the central strategic error of failing to recognise that parties struggling to hold onto their support rarely solve their problems by retreating into their ideological comfort zone.

Indeed, it is tempting to believe the entire exercise was less a considered piece of political strategizing than an act of petulance designed to put the Liberal Democrats in their place following the spat over Lords reform and the boundary review.

With the forces of the Tory right now ranged even more formidably against him, there is no doubt that Lib Dem leader Nick Clegg will now find it even more difficult to persuade voters that he and his party are actually making a difference in government.

Meanwhile Labour leader Ed Miliband continues to make mischief by teasingly holding out the prospect of a post-Clegg, post-election Lib-Lab deal with ‘continuity SDP’ leader Vince Cable in the deputy PM role.

But inept as it may have been to drive his Coalition partners further into the hands of the enemy, even more ham-fisted was the Prime Minister’s treatment of his erstwhile transport secretary, Justine Greening.

Mr Cameron’s decision to remove her, apparently for having reaffirmed the government’s policy to rule out a third runway at Heathrow, has handed his real enemy – Boris Johnson – both a key weapon and a key ally in his campaign to replace the Tory leader.

The long-simmering battle between the two men has now moreorless descended into open warfare, with the London Mayor angrily denouncing Ms Greening’s demotion and demanding a statement ruling out a third runway for good.

Ms Greening – a former Treasury minister, take note – must now be odds-on to become Boris’s first Chancellor if he ever makes it into Number Ten – a double case of Blond(e) Ambition.

Hence a reshuffle that was supposed to relaunch Mr Cameron’s premiership has simultaneously risked alienating floating voters, angered his Coalition partners, and handed his main internal rival a big stick with which to beat him over the head.

From that perspective, it is tempting to see it as not so much a new dawn for his government, but the beginning of the end.

Tony Blair: The once and and future king?

Anyone who has read this column more than once over the past 15 years or so will probably know by now that I have never exactly been the greatest fan of Tony Blair.

It was not just all the spin and smarm, it was the fact that having waited so long for a left-of-centre government, we ended up with one that behaved in much the same way as the Tory administrations that preceded it.

From the perspective of a political journalist on a North-East newspaper, what made it worse was the evident lack of regard in which the former Prime Minister appeared to hold his ‘home’ region.

Having got his big break unexpectedly at Sedgefield in 1983, he repaid the region’s loyalty by ignoring its needs at every turn and allowing its prosperity divide with the South to widen markedly during his time in office.

So why, then, am I secretly clucking with pleasure at the flurry of recent stories suggesting the great man may soon make a return to the political frontline?  Well, partly, I guess, because it would make politics more interesting.

But mainly it’s down to a feeling that, in Britain, we discard our political leaders far too early, that we should be making greater use of their accumulated wisdom in the interests of better and more enlightened government.

In this context, Mr Blair’s own estimation of why he would like the chance to be Prime Minister again makes interesting reading.

“I have learned an immense amount in the past five years. One of my regrets is that what I have learned in the last five years would have been so useful to me, because when you see how the world is developing you get a far clearer picture of some of the issues our country is grappling with,” he said recently.

Now it would be easy to dismiss this as another example of Mr Blair’s colossal self-regard, were it not for the fact that what he says actually rings true.

In the not-so-distant past, after all, people who had been Prime Minister once quite often went on to become Prime Minister again – and usually ended up making a better fist of it than they had the first time round.

If I'm honest, I think I probably have something of a romantic attachment to the politics of the 19th century, when political careers lasted 60 years and the likes of Palmerston and Gladstone could still become Prime Minister in their 80s.

It’s also probably down in part to an instinctive dislike of ageism, a dislike that is becoming stronger as I myself edge nearer and nearer towards the half-century mark.

Asked recently by London’s Evening Standard whether he would welcome a return as Prime Minister, Mr Blair was quoted as saying: "Yes, sure, but it's not likely to happen is it."

One of the biggest reasons it is so unlikely is that, as Mr Blair himself acknowledged on the day he left office, he is not, and never has been, a “House of Commons man.”

He made clear how he felt about the place by resigning as an MP on the very day he resigned as Prime Minister, and it is inconceivable to see him hanging around on the backbenches waiting for his chance to ‘do a de Gaulle.’

Could he, instead, become a House of Lords or a Senate man, one of the elected peers Nick Clegg hopes to see if he gets his way and forces the Tory backbenches to swallow Lords reform?  This, I think, is rather more likely.

But if Tony Blair really does want to be Prime Minister again – and if you are politician, I don’t think you ever quite lose that desire – he would have to do it by a very different route next time round.

He won’t come back as leader of the Labour Party.  They wouldn’t have him even if they lost the next election and the one after that too.

He would probably have to start his own party, join the Tories, or, more plausibly, put himself at the head of some sort of grand Coalition in a moment of national crisis.

And the other thing he would have to do differently, of course, would be to find somewhere to represent that was a long way away from the North-East.

A tale of three Prime Ministers

Shortly after Rupert Murdoch sacked him as editor of The Times in 1982, the great newspaperman Harold Evans wrote a book about his experiences which he both hoped and believed would devastate the Australian media mogul.

‘Good Times, Bad Times’ remains a classic of its kind and is still pretty much essential reading for anyone wanting to enter our profession, but if the truth be told, its political impact was far more limited than its author had envisaged.

Over the ensuing decades, Murdoch’s continuing accretion of power over the UK media became by and large a subject of interest only to a few left-wing mavericks, with governments of both colours content to indulge the News International chief in the hope of winning his papers’ backing.

Then came the phone hacking affair, propelling the ‘Murdoch question’ to the centre of national debate to the point where it now threatens to eviscerate the entire UK political and media establishment.

This week’s hearings of the Leveson Inquiry into press standards might be termed a tale of three Prime Ministers, each one giving a subtly differing account of his dealings with the Murdoch empire.

Of the three, Sir John Major - who once promised to create a nation at ease with itself - was the only one who looked remotely close to being at ease with himself.

Actually his most intriguing revelation was not about Mr Murdoch at all but the man who defeated him in that 1997 election landslide.

Sir John’s estimation that Tony Blair was “in many ways to the right” of him seems to confirm my long-held suspicion that Tory governments seeking to reach out to the centre-left end up being more progressive than Labour ones which seek to appease the right.

Unlike Sir John, who admitted he cared too much about what the papers wrote about him, Gordon Brown claimed he barely even looked at them during his two and a half years in 10 Downing Street.

This was one of many scarcely believable claims which, taken together, served to undermine the credibility of what otherwise might have constituted a powerful body of evidence.

Mr Brown effectively accused Mr Murdoch of having lied to the inquiry about a 2009 conversation in which the former PM was alleged to have threatened to “declare war” on News International.

Cabinet office records appear to bear out Mr Brown’s version of events, but claiming he had nothing to do with the plot to force Mr Blair out of office might lead some to conclude he is a less than reliable witness.

The contributions from Messrs Major and Brown contained much that will be of interest to future historians, and may yet have a significant bearing on Lord Justice Leveson’s eventual recommendations.

But in terms of the impact on present-day politics, the key session of the week came on Thursday as David Cameron took the stand.

For such a renowned PR man he seemed very ill at ease, perhaps unsurprisingly given the excruciating contents of the text messages which he exchanged with News International boss Rebekah Brooks.

To his credit, though, Mr Cameron did not attempt to shy away from the responsibility for some of his more controversial actions, admitting that he was “haunted” by the decision to make former News of the World editor Andy Coulson his communications chief.

For me, the party leader who emerged with the least credit from the week was not Mr Cameron but Nick Clegg, whose decision to abstain in the vote over Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt’s future looked like the worst kind of gesture politics.

If they really wanted to see an independent investigation carried out into Mr Hunt’s role in handling the BSKyB bid, they would have voted with Labour, but this was no more than a cynical exercise in political positioning.

In Journal political editor Will Green’s excellent analysis of the state of the Liberal Democrats in the North-East published earlier this week, Gateshead Lib Dem councillor Ron Beadle was quoted as saying that Mr Clegg would not lead his party into the next election.

Party loyalists aside, it is becoming harder and harder to find anyone prepared to dispute that assertion.